I’m one of those people who sees signs in the mundane and makes them magical.
That’s how I commenced 2017. A lazy stroll along the canal while brisket slow roasted in the oven was a way to get rid of a few cobwebs from the soul after the usual over-indulgent Christmas.
The canal hosts profuse birdlife from mallard ducks to herons. Once, I saw a red status* merlin, the UK’s smallest bird of prey. But on January 1st, 2017, I caught a glimpse of turquoise flit along the water before me. My first thought “that’s a bloody big dragonfly,” was obviously erroneous, and when I saw it settle on a branch overhanging the river, I realised what I had just seen. It remained perched until we were within viewing distance again, then it took flight along the length of the canal before us, stopping every now and then to peruse the water below. It was a kingfisher searching for prey and we were lucky enough to see it dive. It must have remained with us for about 1/2 mile before trying the ponds on the other side. I’ve only seen a kingfisher once before in my life, so felt somewhat blessed. It seemed a good omen for the start of a new year with a purpose of major life change.
The end of the year was marked by a starling falling down the chimney into the room where I was working. Unharmed, it finally worked out that it could fly out the window I opened for it. Time to migrate?
The start of the new year had me looking at what the Chinese new year would bring in a little over a month. It will be the Year of the Rooster. Interestingly, Donald Trump is a Rooster. And the Year of the Rooster isn’t a good year for Roosters. Thankfully, I’m a Tiger.
A visitor to our house announced that there are ‘presences’ occupying it. She told us that they are benign, but the only room she didn’t meet any is the room I call ‘The Studio’. It’s where I work, do t’ai chi, gaze out the window. It’s also the only room where I’ve conducted a banishing ritual properly.
I don’t think I mind sharing a house with spirits, but the bedroom should be out of bounds. Think we need to have a little chat.
Last night I dreamed I was a TV host interviewing a boy band. They were dressed in suits, stiff and defensive. I honed in on one of the members and got him to open up about how he felt about the music industry. He revealed that he was a serious musician and composer and felt his talents were being trivialised. He started to shake and was close to tears as he spoke, feeling trapped by what they had become. I didn’t feel sorry for him, more a sense of a job well done. I usually understand what many of my dreams are about, but don’t understand this one.
*The UK’s RSPB allocates a status to bird species which represents the health of their populations. Red status indicates an endangered species, often as there are few breeding pairs remaining in the UK. Merlins are in this category, hence this sighting was especially surprising.